“Like fuck she isn’t.”
Vivienne sighs.“She’s—”
“My mom’s American-German-Romanian.My dad’s Russian-French-Scandinavian,” I speak up, thickening my accent for effect.“And I’ve spent my entire life living everywherebutAmerica.”
The man narrows his eyes.I’m aware I just broke their rule—speak only when spoken to—but this is my best way in.I can’t be left behind over some nonsense prejudice.
“What accent is that?”he asks.
“A mixture of all the places I’ve lived.But mostly French.I spend the most time there.”
He studies me for a moment longer, then jerks his chin.“Take off the jacket.Let me see you.”
I shrug it off, turning in a slow three-sixty.Unlike the others, I’m not busty, curvy, or soft in all the right places.I’m lean, toned, athletic.Not the tempting, sin-encouraging type of body that turn heads at first glance.Which I knew, coming in, would be a strike against me.
The Castellos want bombshells.Sex on legs.Women who’ll keep patrons coming back night after night just to leer at the smokeshows serving their drinks and cigars.I’m anythingbutthat.
The man makes an unimpressed grunt.“You got some striking eyes and a nice pair of tits, but that’s about it.”He turns to the others.“You, you, you, and you, let’s go.”
Shitshitshit.I need to get into that villa, dammit.
Lousia offers me a deflated, apologetic look.“I’msosorry, Raya.”
“Don’t be.I’ll be fine.Go.”
She squeezes me in a quick hug before jogging down the steps with the others toward the two haphazardly parked Broncos.
In a last-ditch effort, I grab the man’s jacket to stall him.
He stops, looks down at my hand, then up at me, a warning in his glare.
I quickly drop my hand.“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—” I step back, out of his space.“Aesthetically, I know I’m not what you’re looking for.But I can be useful elsewhere.”My words rush out, urgent.“I speak five languages.I’m good with numbers.A whiz with tech, hacking, all that.I have selective eidetic memory.I can see things once and recall every detail.Well…when my brain cooperates.This also means I know random stuff about everything.”I search his face.“There must be somewhere I’ll be of good use….?”
“You know ‘bout weapons, too?How to handle a sniper rifle?”he challenges.“How to shoot someone right between the eyes?Hand-to-hand combat?Torture and interrogation skills?Tactical operations?”
Can’t answer that…“N-no, no, I don’t.I wouldn’t need your p-protection if I did.”
“Women who are too smart are dangerous.They can’t be trusted.The dumber you are, the better.”He looks me over again, his cold eyes lingering on my cleavage.“If we ever need a smart-ass bitch, we’ll find you.”
He turns and leaves.And there goes Luca Fontana.An Upperman in the Castellos organization.A blood relative.And, apparently, an asshole.
As the Broncos peel out of the driveway, taking my one chance with them, I whirl on Vivienne.“You couldn’t eventryto persuade them?”
Unfazed, she takes a slow drag of her cigarette.“I told you it was a long shot.You don’t look desperate.You don’t look helpless.You don’t lack confidence, you reek of it.There’s a reason they pick the girls they do.”She flicks ash from her cigarette, head tilting.“You didn’t tell me about all those...skillsof yours.”
I stare at her.I could snap that twiggy neck.Rip her blackened lungs straight through her throat.Instead, I bow my head, shoulders sagging, voice small.“I don’t know half the crap I said.I was just trying to get them to take me.Which is what you should have done, for all the money I paid you.”
Unconvinced, she regards me for a beat.“I used to be trouble, so I know trouble when I see it.And you, girl, looka lotlike trouble.Maybe it’s better for my life that they didn’t take you.”
I barely hold back a snort.“I’ll stick around for another week.Just in case they realize they need a ‘smart-ass bitch’ after all.”
“The fee to stay is the same.But feed yourself.You eat like a whale.”
“Yeah, sure, whatever.”
She studies me for a moment longer, before she turns and shuffles off, muttering, “Definitely trouble.”
Vivienne Morales is a private recruiter for the Castellos.By day, she works at a shelter for battered women.There, she shops for the young, childless, desperate and beautiful, and she offers them something better than a shelter ever could:realprotection and provision.
